


Reunion

by blueberrytoast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amnesiac Castiel, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 13:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1107459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrytoast/pseuds/blueberrytoast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is being smuggled out of the institution by a very suspicious nurse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Coda to 7x17 promo, incredibly AU.

The tension enveloped his shoulders like a ton of water soaking into his clothes, dragging his limbs down, down. He felt heavy, so heavy, the pull of gravity a constant reminder of the awkwardness of his movement. He didn’t fit. He was too cold, yet warm and sweaty. The beating of his heart a rhythmic companion to his shallow breath. 

It had gone so fast. One minute he was in his room fiddling with his coloring pencils in a therapeutic attempt at drawing his numerous, often quite horrifying dreams, an assignment his Psychiatrist had given him when he’d talked about how surreal, yet completely familiar and vivid his dreams had been. He had been doodling the general shape of a man when one of his night attendees had come into his room with a bundle of clothes and a cheeky grin.

"Come one, Clarence. Time for a trip outside," she had drawled with a widening grin, floppy curls bouncing around her face. He had never felt comfortable around this particular night attendant, she was attractive, sure, but at times when she checked him at night and he saw her reflection in the reflective surface of the murky window, he had caught a glimpse of something truly disturbing. He was sure it was only hallucinations, like his psychiatrist had said he might experience, but the cold shudder he felt a long his back when she smiled never failed to disturb him. He wouldn’t trust this woman with his waste if he could help it.

Though he had complied when she told him to get dressed. His access to outside was very limited and he had yet to see the night sky, something the other patients had held lengthy conversations about in group therapy. He wondered if it would be free of clouds, if he would get to see the stars. 

The woman, dressed causally in jeans and a leather-jacket and name-tag mysteriously absent, grabbed his wrist and roughly tugged him out into the dimmed-lit corridor and towards the personnel area. 

”.. Is, is it not customary to wear name-tags at all times for personnel?” he asked, voice grave and raspy of disuse. 

She paused in front of a sturdy looking door undoubtedly leading to the outside. He could feel a rush of excitement at the thought of clean air and the sound of wind rushing through tree-branches.

"Oh, Clarence, my name’s not Annabelle." she smirked, a hint of something in her eyes which made the hair at the back of his neck rise and prickle in apprehension.

She unlocked the door and tugged him outside by grabbing the fabric of his sweater by the arm. As he stumbled outside on trembling feet, tugged away from the door by an extraordinary strong hold, the slight form of the woman belying her strength, he drew in a shaky breath of crisp night air. 

It was cold and refreshing; it had been too long since the staff had let him be outside with the other patients. And the sky, the sky was dark and cloud free, speckled with glinting lights far off in the distance. _Stars_. He thought with a almost overwhelming feeling of loss. His breath hitched and an unfamiliar pressure developed in his neck and throat, forcing his chin down to his chest. His eyes were warm and strangely tight, a prickling sensation becoming more and more pronounced in the corner of his eyes.

He had been so absorbed in the novelty of his body’s reaction and strangely unfamiliar yet completely humbling feeling of standing underneath the stars at last, he hadn’t even noticed the disappearance and reappearance of Not-Annabelle. 

"… _Cas_.” The voice was deep, a man’s voice, and rasped as if he hadn’t had anything to drink in months. Something with that voice struck a cord inside him. It was familiar, so, so familiar, like the truth to what he was, who he was, was just around the corner, one small step away from revelation. 

It reminded him of the dreams he’d had. Those awful dreams of pain and light and crushing feelings of despair, of defeat, of loneliness. At times he had heard a voice just like that, yelling his name, or another name, something starting with Sa-h, he didn’t know. He never knew. It was there, always there but never clear enough. 

His whole body tensed, this was it. Emotions he never thought he would feel surged and rolled inside him. Anger, fear, despair, sadness, remorse… 

He couldn’t breathe. His head was spinning. Who was that person? _Who was it?_

Slowly he turned around. He didn’t dare to look up at first, knowing his whole being would be on display on his face. He was hunched over and the pressure, oh god the pressure was suffocating him. His palms were clammy, his knees trembling. 

He looked up ever so slowly. Afraid of whom it would be and what it would mean, what they’d mean. He didn’t know and the fear was making his stomach feel like lead. Pulling, pulling him down towards the ground making standing up an excruciating effort. 

He looked up at last and all he saw was wide green eyes. 

Wide green eyes and a freckled face. Short hair and a wide set of shoulders. Jeans and a rugged looking jacket of a coarse material. Worn boots on his feet. 

”.. _Who are you_..?” he said, his voice barely audible and hoarse, almost gasping for air. 

The eyes narrowed into a frown, and the man moved forward with his hands raised peacefully in shoulder height, approaching him like he was afraid he would bolt, run away to what? Back to the institution? No, he was here now, he wouldn’t run. He couldn’t.

"Cas… It’s me. It’s Dean."

Something inside his head snapped, and internal loop of _Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, The Righteous Man has been Saved, I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, **I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord.**_

And the world turned blissfully black.


End file.
